We call Wallis our hall monitor because she keeps everything in order around here. Nothing can be out-of-place, an open door she goes charging forward saying, no no no and closes it. Laundry left unfolded she goes charging forward saying, no no no until it’s folded, and even when we added a new cake pan to our pan drawer, she noticed immediately and said, no no no! When my parents left a bag of soil on their porch, she also noticed immediately and said, no no no until they moved it. She knew my dad’s car when he drove into our driveway even though she’s never been in his car, and started calling out the window, pop-pop pop-pop! She notices eeeevvveerrryyy thing down to a spec of lint or a leaf that has been tracked in….and I have no idea if that’s “typical” or if my manic cleanliness has created the most orderly baby out there, ha!
Wallis loves when I hang up on people with her play phone, she grins like the Cheshire Cat and says, oh mama and then asks me to do it over and over again! I have to say as an introvert, I really enjoy how much she likes to say bye and to hang up on people, ha!
This last month has been one of those months where you feel like the world is spinning madly forward and you’re trying so hard to stop it. Every single day Wallis has been doing something different, and every day she has been saying a new word. She is absorbing actions, words, and her surroundings so quickly, Andrew will say llama and Wallis will say llama. I mentioned a bag and Wallis starts saying bag…and just like that I am struck and breathless with joy and sadness.
I feel this constant pressure on my chest every moment I am with her, and I could instantly burst into tears if anyone addressed the sadness in my eyes. There is so much love in her, independence and wonder…I just want to capture it all and hold it tightly and try my hardest to remember every single moment of her…but it’s not possible and it hurts, it seriously hurts not to be able to.
I watch as she snuggles up to me on the couch and dangles her tiny legs proudly over the edge and giggles about sitting like mama, or how she loves to spin now or how excited she gets about her banana “nana” before bed…and think remember this remember this. How if a match is lit, she comes charging into the room blowing as hard as she can, because she loves to blow out candles or matches or bubbles. Or even the other day, she slipped and basically did the splits and I reached quickly to grab her, but instead she jumped up and started dancing and Andrew said, way to play it off Wallis and we laughed so hard tears came down our cheeks, she is one smooth operator. It’s all so simplistically mundane but magical in the repeated motion of our lives, a cycle of schedules and meal planning…but I love it all, I feel so damn blessed for it all.
I’ve never been someone who let life happen to them, instead I watch it intently, wishing hard against its clock. And now that my heart walks outside of my chest, I wish harder and more intensely.
Participating in the growth of a human-being is so powerful – you realize how much you’ve let go unnoticed, and how at some point you grew away from being aware of the tiniest of specs to the grandest of sounds…like a train going by. Living through Wallis has truly given me life again, and maybe that’s why I am so keen to make it last.